Love's Glory and Pain
by CCC17
Summary: A new person moves in and immediately become popular. He is the perfect kind of guy. Two lovers find each other and rise to great heights in their love, but sometimes what seems perfect in only temporary.
1. PrologueThe end?

**Ok so, I read Scott Pilgrim and decided to write a story, although I have other stories I should continue…Oh well I'll live, ideas sometimes take time as I'm sure everyone knows.**

**So from here I'm gonna tell you the obvious, the story will end depressingly if I actually finish it. This story will also be done in retrograde fashion, starting with something at/essentially near the end and going the rest of the back story from there. I'm no veteran writer but I try when I write.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own the comics by Bryan O'Malley but this story is original and will try to incorporate some kind of truth to the characters.**

**From the comics a little OOC will occur because of my planned plot. Sue me. Also a shift in time will be required for some of the music choices I make, so just imagine the story took place a few years later than it did.**

**OOOOO**

A sound could be heard outside of a small apartment in Toronto, Canada. The sound was angry, depressed…It was cold and snowing. Snow, how perfect…Death in all its sweet beauty. If one were to brave travelling into the small apartment one would find near complete darkness as it was night outside and all the lights were off, save one.

In the corner was a dimly lit and flickering computer screen, the owner needed a new one…On this particular day the computer was only being used for a blaring of music through attached speakers. This was the origin of the sound which could be heard from out side, an emotional song for which the player had started to numb their pain. Only inside could you understand the lyrics…

_I loved you, you made me, hate me.  
>You gave me hate see?<br>It saved me and these tears are deadly.  
>You feel that?<br>I rip back, every time you tried to steal that.  
>You feel bad?<br>You feel sad?  
>I'm sorry hell no fuck that!<br>It was my heart, it was my life, it was my start, it was your knife.  
>This strife it dies, this life and these lies.<br>These lungs have sung this song for too long, and its true I hurt to remember I loved you_

The anger of the song, the depression, the sheer emotion of the words could move one. But for the individual who had started the song they only intensified what they were already drowning in. In a swivel chair not far from the desk that was inhabited by the computer and speakers sat someone. It couldn't be heard from outside, in fact even on the inside the sound was but a mere murmur, a restrained cry which could not be held in for much longer. The individual who had thought them self so strong, able to endure all, and a centre of self-control was losing all that had made them who they were. People had tried to console him, but nothing had worked.

His hat was itchy. He violently ripped it off and threw it to the wall at the other side of the room and the bill of the hat clicked off the wall and the colorful article landed on the floor with an inaudible sound. He grabbed at his hair, tugging at it. Tears streamed down his face as his teeth grinded and his eyes stayed locked shut. The sound remained restrained.

_I've lost it all fell today its all the same  
>I'm sorry oh (I'm sorry)<br>I'm sorry no (no)  
>I've been abused, I feel so used, because of you<em>

_I'm sorry oh (I'm sorry)  
>I'm sorry no (no)<em>

Control leaving his body, the memory of his new loss only now began to surge its way up through his emotions and actions. Today was the funeral…He would miss it, he never intended to go even though his friends all pleaded him to go. He leaned farther down in his seat an angry yell welling up from deep within his throat, he couldn't handle what had happened to him. His one and only love, gone and the world wouldn't give two shits that she was gone.

While he suffered others like _Scott_ and _Stephen_, even _Wallace_, got to keep their loves, what did he get? Pain. His hands moved from their tight grip on his hair to the side of his face, his short nails clawing at his skull, anything to dull the emotional pain, this wouldn't be the first try he had made either. Only now, it was on an uncontrollable downslide.

_I wish I could have quit you  
>I wish I never missed you and told you that I loved you every time I fucked you<br>The future that we both drew and all the shit we've been through  
>Obsessed with the thought of you the pain just grew and grew!<br>How could you do this too me  
>Look at what I made for you it never was enough and the world is what I gave you<br>I used to be love struck and now I'm just fucked up  
>Pull up my sleeves and see the pattern of my cuts!<em>

The cold outside pierced the room; he could even see his breath... This did nothing to dull his pain. He could no longer take it; he stood from his sparsely cushioned chair and screamed to the world, tears which had never been shed until today coming in droves. He grabbed his chair and threw it across the room he was in; it made contact with a wall and cracked it. He flipped the small couch in the room in the depression which had just been unleashed from the depths of his soul.

He kicked the small table which sat next to the couch, knocking the contents of that table everywhere and the table into a spin that connected with his desk. In this rage he failed to see what had flown off that table. Next he ran and grabbed the tall lamp which sat originally on the other side of the couch and swung with all his might to the ground, shattering the light bulb and flinging off the shade. He swung again at the doorway to the next room, what used to be the bedroom of him _and_ her… The doorway cracked from the contact.

He continued to damage the room and his body until he no longer had the strength to fight the world which he was cursing a million times over.

_I've lost it all fell today it's all the same  
>I'm sorry oh (I'm sorry)<br>I'm sorry no (no)  
>I've been abused, I feel so used, because of you<br>I'm sorry oh (I'm sorry)  
>I'm sorry no (no)<em>

_Seems like all we had is over now, you left to rest.  
>And your tears are dried up now; you just lay without a sound.<br>Seems like all we had is over now, you left to rest.  
>And my fears are over now; I can leave with my head down<em>

When he couldn't fight or scream in pain any more he only stared at the ceiling, crying tears which stung his eyes now. He fell to his knees and with this fall his head drooped to look at the ground. Amidst the glass and scattered items he saw something which only made him hurt more; it felt as if his heart was covered in lye. He shuffled to the item as fast as he could and pulled it out from under glass shards and a thrown book. The most recent picture of the couple…

They were smiling and laughing, he had gotten her to start once again… He remembered that day vividly but to recall now would have done nothing to ease the pain and constriction in his chest. A lone tear fell onto the picture which he held in his now weak arms. He shook with cold and sadness. She was everything to him.

"Why..?" The sobbing question from the young man was nearly drowned out by the music which still blared from his speakers lending to his mounting depression.

_I've lost it all fell today it's all the same  
>I'm sorry oh (I'm sorry)<br>I'm sorry no (no)  
>I've been abused, I feel so used, because of you<br>I'm sorry oh (I'm sorry)  
>I'm sorry no (no)<em>

The song came to a finish but his emotions changed very little. The world was against him, it wasn't fair that others got to keep their loved ones and his only love was gone. Overcome by grief he gave the girl in the picture one final kiss, something he never got to do. He glanced at his arm; the cuts which he had hid from his friends were stark white against the backdrop of his skin, a few additions to the many across his bare upper body which had come from elsewhere. Even with that he had not cried once until today. He spotted a larger piece of glass and grabbed it. One more cut wouldn't change anything but why not try?

The edge of the glass sliced through a portion of his skin, causing a trail of blood to travel down his arm. He had never been one to be emo or cut until he had lost her. He dropped the glass shard limply, the pain of the cut only just registering in his mind. He stared once again at the picture of the happy couple. He stood slowly, maybe it would be better to end everything right now? No…his outburst was over, he could withstand anything…

The tears on his face were drying now. Other songs played in the background but he could no longer hear them. He meandered into what was once their bedroom and then into the bathroom. He opened a drawer and pulled out gauze and a large roll of cloth for wounds. He wound the cloth around the gauze placed over his cut. Looking at himself in the mirror he looked near dead, dark rings around his now dull eyes, skin more pale than ever, a bloody arm, bedraggled hair, scars everywhere, and a slouch to his posture.

He turned from the mirror and dragged his feet out of the bathroom until he reached their old bed. He flopped down on the bed in sheer exhaustion. Why did she have to leave him? Why did she die so young? Questions like these filled his mind as he drifted closer and closer to sleep. Pulling a cover vaguely over his now freezing body he passed out on the bed that night. One day maybe he could be saved, but for now someone needed to find him and that someone would not come until morning.

**OOOOO**

**So that's that. If I ever get to where the context of this chapter makes sense I'll be amazed. However this is again, a retrograde story, like Star Wars. This is the end or near the end, I haven't decided which, and the story will pick up a certain time in the past.**

**This is a very depressing first chapter/end to the story mostly influenced by depressing songs. Oh well, if you like it review.**

**Song: Black Dahlia by Hollywood Undead**


	2. Saviour

**Ok, so I had originally planned what I was gonna do for the second chapter and I used to love the idea, only one problem…I was struck by genius. I was sitting there listening to some more music and suddenly it hit me, I could do this! And then…Well if you read you can find out.**

**Anyway, because of this change, the story will no longer be retrograde; the story will be completely linear. The back story will come out in bits and pieces but for the most part it will remain unknown. By the way I will state that this story takes place, from the start, in the winter following the end of Scott Pilgrim.**

**Again I don't own the comic series.**

**OOOOO**

Floating around in darkness…nothing as far as the eye can see, no desert like Scott Pilgrim…

_Knock, knock, knock…_

"Am I dead…? I'm going to be alone forever…" the voice echoes throughout the void, reverberating off nothing.

_Knock, knock, knock, knock, knock…_

"Hmm…?" Time passes in silence.

_BANG, BANG, BANG!_

Suddenly his eyes cracked open, his green eyes have a hard time coming into focus, he has a splitting headache. He feels hung-over.

_James Decker_

_Age: 21_

_Nickname: Hollywood_

_Fun Fact: He's from L.A._

_Depression Meter: Full_

James was laying in a dark room, he could hear the music he had started last night still blaring, only now it was some crappy alternative song…'_Probably Scott's band'_…he thought while staring at his bloody hand. He had stained _their_ sheets with _his_ blood. What used to be _their_ apartment was in ruins, his life had fallen apart over the last few days, he quit his job, he began cutting himself, he went into minor seclusion, he had destroyed their apartment and his body. He felt freezing in his half nudity, he had left the heater off last night to feel cold, it made him feel more alive with his new loss—

_BANG! BANG! BANG!_

"James! Are you ok?" A female voice called through the door. A strip of light filtered under the curtains of the dark room he was in. He wanted to lie there and stay in bed, maybe he could just stay there until he died…Instead he forced his spent body up and out of bed, the bed creaking in the process. He shuffled his way to his computer and paused the music that had been blaring all night long, the computer was giving off a lot of heat that felt good against his cold skin. The guest had been banging on the door until he paused the music, it stopped in response. They must have known he was actually fine.

James shuffled his way to the door and unlocked it, opening the door wide, allowing a view of his destroyed apartment and his body clad in only jeans. There stood a familiar red head.

_Kim Pine_

_You all know her, right?_

_Worry Meter: [- ]_

_Expression Meter: [- ]_

"Kim..? What are you doing here?" James asked her, a tinge of surprise in his voice. The air from outside was bitterly cold and Kim stood in a jacket outside his door. Kim noticed that he wasn't wearing any shirt and in a fraction of a second several emotions flashed across her eyes, embarrassment, attraction, worry, and shock. Her eyebrows rose momentarily at the sight off all his scars and his bloody hand with his arm doctored up.

"I came because you weren't at the funeral yesterday and I decided to be the adult and check on you. Now let's get you inside, you idiot, you need more clothes." She punched him in the arm before pulling him inside and closing the door behind them.

"Wait—" James started but Kim didn't listen, she dragged the taller man into his apartment and sat him down on the couch after having him return it to normal.

'_This place…is a complete wreck' _Kim thought after surveying his apartment. She then realized that the heater was not on and that James would freeze to death like this. She opened up the curtains that she could find, handed James her jacket, and moved to turn the heater on.

'_He felt so cold.'_ Kim glanced back James, his back to her as he shivered inside her jacket. Even someone built like he is cannot withstand a constant stream of below freezing temperatures. She had just lost her jacket and already felt cold in his apartment, and when she had grabbed his hand he had felt like an ice cube. With the heater now set on max, Kim sat down next to the younger man.

Neither person spoke to the other for a long time as the sound of the heater kicking in filled the apartment. It wasn't loud, rather just a constant nagging whir that both Kim and James focused on for a few moments. Kim occasionally glanced at the shivering figure next to her.

"I should have gone…I'm terrible…" James mumbled out after a time. He felt bad, but nothing could compare to the previous night of anger and depression.

"You are but save that kind of talk for someone else, like me." Kim told him, looking in his direction.

"I never did deserve her…" Kim noticed the dried tears on his face but she didn't want to react in the way her mind was telling her to, help him, comfort him, hold him. She was Kim Pine after all, the sarcastic one, the one who hardly expressed herself in any way other than anger.

"Damn right, but didn't you hear what I said?" She hit him on the arm harder than before. This caused him to look at her and rub his arm where she had hit him. He pouted at her, he already hurt from last night. "Do you accept that what happened happened?" Kim asked him.

"Yea, why wouldn't I?" James nodded as he said this.

"Then you're already better than Scott ever was." Kim looked at the ground, remembering Scott's fight with Nega Scott in the woods while at her parents' house… "I mean he forgot everything from all his past relationships just to 'move on' but so long as you remember, you're being an adult." She told him, her expression betraying a half smile. James looked at her curiously.

"Kim…why are you here trying to help me? Why are you talking to me like this? I thought you were more the kinda person who would just…y'know…keep to herself, not someone who would come and talk to me about missing Stephanie's funeral or check on me about anything…" James looked at her questioningly, his built body still shivering as the room heated up significantly. His eyes looked her over from head to toe; she wore her regular clothes; a skirt, pants, boots, a long sleeved shirt, formerly a coat. She looked nice like usual.

"Like I said, I was being the adult and checking on you, no one else had the courage to come questioning you about missing the funeral…Everyone wanted to know but I was the only one who would check on you. Plus I thought you could use some company, obviously you need someone to watch over you…" She looked around the room they sat in, almost everything was in shambles. Everything save his computer and the guitar he had gotten from Stephanie a few years ago, Kim knew the story about that guitar. Even his drums were wrecked, broken apart and thrown around. She shuddered to think about what happened in his apartment that night.

James had a thought then, a very brief though but a thought nonetheless. _'Maybe she just saved me…'_ He looked at her in a way she wasn't expecting of James, even now in his depression, he looked at her with a pleading look in his eyes, a look of a lost boy or something…Someone who needed help. She _wanted_ to help, but anything more than she was already doing would be going against, _changing_, who she had made herself into for so many years. But people could change for the better… _'Look at Scott…'_ Kim thought. Suddenly she heard a growling noise; well, not really a _growling_ noise, more like a grumbling noise, this brought her out of her thoughts as she realized it was James' stomach…

"Uh…" James looked as his stomach. "Sorry…ha ha…" James might have said more but Kim took over.

"Let's get you some food." Kim rolled her eyes and pulled the shivering younger man up. He stumbled as she pulled him toward the small area that was his kitchen until she sat him down in a chair that had been lying on its side until she returned it to its regular position. Kim went to the cabinets and started looking through them, meanwhile James watched her curiously due to the fact that Kim, _Kim_, had cared enough to check on him. It really was an odd idea.

"You want anything specific?" Kim asked of James without looking at him. He continued to stare at her back.

"I don't care…" James shrugged. He was hungry but he would eat whatever was given to him, he didn't really _feel_ like having anything.

"You'll get this then." Kim stated as she placed a half eaten loaf of bread and a bowl of uncooked instant ramen in front of him. He looked at then at her several times.

"Uhh…" James started. "You said you didn't care," Kim finished. 

"Yea, but…could you at least cook the ramen..?" James looked at her imploringly; Kim only rolled her eyes before grabbing the ramen and moving to nuke the container. While James savagely ate the bread put in front of him, Kim wondered why looks from this young man made her do things. _'He _does_ have a great body.'_ Kim reasoned that this was probably why James got her to do things when he asked. She would never tell anyone else anything of the sort but no one is in her head.

As the ramen cup cooked in the microwave Kim noticed something on the floor, James' hat: the straight bill, black L.A. cap he almost always wore backwards. He wore it to show where he was from more than anything. She walked over to the hat, knelt down and picked it up, as she did this James watched her with curiosity but continued to eat his bread; depression doesn't suddenly make you unable to eat.

_Beeeeeep!_

The microwave sounded the completion of the ramen but James was busy eating and watching Kim. So Kim turned back to the kitchen and as she passed James she placed the hat on his head, distracting him momentarily, "Hmph..?" James tried to say something but his mouth was full. Kim took the ramen out of the microwave and gave it to James. Once cool, he slurped down the ramen as quickly as possible. Despite his stomach being satisfied, his depression was unchanged completely. As he finished, tears stood in his eyes, thoughts of Stephanie swimming in his mind's eye as he sat at what used to be their table. Kim took immediate notice.

"Look at me," Kim demanded of James as she lifted his face to look at hers rather than the table, she couldn't go as far as hugging him for comfort, it just wasn't her. "Quit crying. You're supposed to be the tough guy, remember? You're supposed to be able to handle _anything_… You can't just stay at home, destroy your apartment, and cry all the time. You need to get out again and if I have to drag you outside I will but if I do that, you need clothes first." Kim motioned to his lack of anything but pants and hat now.

"I'm not ready, Kim…You wouldn't understand…" James looked away from her, toward the ground. Kim put her hands on her hips.

"I wouldn't understand? Scott left me in high school without telling me, Jason cheated on me with my room mate and best friend. Everyone has problems, James; get over yourself and learn to live with them like everyone else. I _know _you can if even Scott learned how to." Kim had James stand, he stood several inches over her, and, seeing his still sulking form, she hugged him once. James was taken aback by this behavior from Kim, his eyes widened.

"That was so you know someone believes in you…" she said upon releasing him, "and don't expect that to happen again." Kim turned from him and moved to his bedroom, she could see the blood stain on the floor; she knew how the blood got there but she wasn't going to say anything because shit happens; she knew that better than most. James stood and watched her walk into his bedroom, still awestruck by the fact that Kim had hugged him. _'Maybe I don't know Kim that well…Maybe she isn't really how she always portrays…'_ James thought.

Kim returned with a shirt and a new pair of pants to replace the bloodied and generally soiled pants James had already been wearing, he would have to get his own coat because she didn't want to make it seem like she cared _that_ much. She tossed the clothes to him and he looked at them and then to her.

"What are these for..?" James looked at her questioningly, his dull eyes betraying his inability to make coherent thoughts in his advanced stage of depression.

"I said you're going out even if I have to drag you, now get dressed." Kim stated matter-of-factly. James didn't have the will to argue in his condition so he started to change right there. Only when James started to pull his jeans down did Kim notice what he was doing.

"W-what are you doing?" Kim gawked at him. She could see most of his underwear and…her cheeks developed a little red at the thought…

"Getting dressed…like you told me too… Sheesh Kim, if you cared where I changed you should have said something…You obviously didn't have a problem with my lack of a shirt…" James grumbled at he made his way to the bedroom to get dressed, having to hold his pants up on the way to his room. He didn't want to go outside, but he had a feeling Kim wouldn't leave him alone if he didn't agree to go outside…

As James walked passed and into the bedroom Kim thanked God for James not noticing the slight tinge her cheeks had developed when he started to take his pants down. _'What kind of…big…moron starts taking his pants off in front of a girl?'_ Kim questions herself as she moves to stand by the door to his apartment to wait for James to finish getting dressed.

James sighed as the door shut, songs such as Snuff and Bullet coming to mind as he set the clothes picked for him on his bed. _'No…not today…'_ he thought, the lyrics to those songs bringing ideas, horrible ideas, into his head. James pulled the tight shirt over his head, the dark red reminding him of the blood that now stained the carpet a brown color and which he had shed last night. Pulling on the unstained jeans Kim had picked for him. He grabbed a black hoody to put on over his t-shirt because he didn't own any large coats, despite living in Canada now. With the hoody on and partially zipped up, the hood sitting on top of his hat, and a pair of dark sunglasses sitting on his face he put on some socks and his flat bottom shoes. All the while, Kim waited impatiently and with some worry in the back of her mind but her face remained generally unchanged. Then the bedroom door opened and the worry went away slightly upon seeing James actually there.

"Let's go…" James said opening his front door, unsure of himself in leaving his apartment but seeing no other option.

_James "Hollywood" Decker_

_Fear: 0_

_Strength: Too High_

_Cool Meter: [-]_

_Confidence: Uhh…_

After a long walk filled with silence between the two friends, they ended up at the Dufferin Mall.

_Dufferin Mall_

_Number of Better Places to go: Many…_

"Hey, why didn't we take your car?" Kim looked at James with an eyebrow raised. Having made a valid point, Kim waited for James to falter like he always did when questioned or under pressure.

"Uh…I…er…forgot? My keys?" James rubbed the back of his neck nervously; he wasn't really in any condition to think of alternatives. James silently thanked his hoody for covering the bandages on his arm that he knew would call attention and stares from friends and onlookers alike. Only Kim knew about the partially stained bandages currently…

"Great job James…" Kim's voice was dripping with the sarcasm all her friends had come to know. Now whether they _loved_ it was another story altogether…A loud growl brought surrounding attention to the pair as they walked without intent of going anywhere. Kim looked at James with disbelief.

"Hungry…" James groaned out, despite having eaten. His appetite had no limits and his hunger was almost constant. The blessing of a high metabolism gave him the body of Apollo. Kim shook her head in slight annoyance.

"I bet you don't have any money either, do you?" Kim asked James who only shook his head slightly. Kim sighed before shoving her hands into her coat pockets.

"Come on, big guy. I'll buy you something at the food court…" Kim moved in the subsequent direction and James followed her obediently, holding his stomach. _'This is gonna be a long day.'_ If only Kim knew what was yet to come on this very interesting day.

**OOOOO**

**Ok, so chapter two done. I need to make them longer…Oh well. Can I say I hate school?**

**Anyway, review if you enjoyed this. I hope to continue it soon.**


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